


Meant to Be

by orphan_account



Category: Suikoden V
Genre: Bodyguard, Canon Illustration, F/M, Romance, Royalty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2008-10-22
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Freyjador hoped sincerely that this phase would come to pass, and he and Lyon could just have a relationship befitting of the prince and his bodyguard; however, his feelings may prove to be a bit too resilient.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Revelation

"Come on in, my boy. Let me have a look at you," said Ferid, who had long awaited the arrival of his son. It was the eve of the prince's sixteenth birthday, and he appeared as regal, albeit kind as he always had, with once glaring exception. He was a growing boy. Though growing boys generally liked to keep to themselves, Ferid couldn't help but feel that his son could use a bit of advice before his countenance cracked under pressure.

There was a time to be a prince and a time to be a young man. "Hmm, yes."

"What is it, father?" asked Prince Freyjador, not exactly comfortable with all this. He stood before his father dressed in the dust of the dwarf mines, where he visited as a diplomat on behalf of the queen. His strength was now recognized, and therefore he was given errands all over the country. His face was well known throughout the queendom, and he made all kinds of friends on his journeys; however, each journey left him feeling a sense of fatigue and untidiness. He would have loved to get in a nice bath before speaking with his father, but it was too late for that now.

"You're not quite the runt you used to be, you know. Pretty soon you'll be looking down on more than just Lym, ahahaha!"

Ferid slapped his knee in delight over his own joke, making his boy blush a little. The prince may have been growing into a fine young man, but he was a bit too sensitive and housebroken. Why, if he knew some of the men Ferid grew up around he'd simply have a heart attack. Prince Freyjador was very tidy, so tidy it put most common women to shame. Speaking of which, that must have been the consequence of being reared in a castle full of women, but he supposed it couldn't be helped. At least the boy liked pulling his own weight around the place, rather than living a simple, luxurious life holed up in the castle.

"W-what was it you wanted to talk about?" said the prince, as embarrassment started to overwhelm him for no apparent reason. Lately he had gotten embarrassed over the silliest things, like Lyon pledging her life to him, Lyon straightening out his clothes, Lym glomp-attacking him in front of Lyon, and everyone else, and so forth. Things that were once a norm in his life left him extremely hot and bothered, and he hadn't a clue why.

"I want to know if you have anything you want to talk about, my boy. You seem preoccupied as of late," said Ferid, with a more serious expression on his face. It was one that told the prince that he must speak, or he'd regret it. Freyjador didn't even know where to begin, though, because the changes in his life were all happening so suddenly. Suddenly he was out on missions, day in and day out, with Lyon by his side at all times. Growing up she was his dearest friend, kind-hearted at true to herself, if a little quiet. The prince made a point to get a smile on her face every day if he could. Now suddenly he felt as though his smiles were intrusive, as though she'd reject his good nature somehow. When she turned to him and smiled back, it embarrassed him. Where all of this was coming from he couldn't tell you. All he knew was that the source of his "preoccupation" as Ferid put it, was Lyon.

"Father… well. L-Lyon's been doing a terrific job as my body guard. I think it's time we make her into a Queen's Knight, don't you think?" said Freyjador, trying to be as smooth about that as possible. Unfortunately he was as easy to read as an Old Book, and Ferid finally got the answer he was looking for.

Without jumping right into what he suspected, Ferid simply answered his son's question. "Absolutely not. Lyon's good, but it takes more than that to become a full-fledged Queen's Knight. You wouldn't want her getting killed in a mission that's too advanced for her, now would you?"

"Of course not!" Freyjador looked appalled that his father would even suggest such a thing. More so that he had wanted to dump Lyon off just because her presence made him feel slightly uneasy. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"Well, you appear to be thinking now. So tell me what's on your mind."

It wasn't something the prince ever planned to put into feasible words. After all, he thought it was just a phase that would die out, and he and Lyon could proceed with their lives as normal as they ever had. It wasn't easy to imagine, though, for he wasn't the only one who grew. She always had a pretty face, the kind that reminded him of Lymsleia's glass dolls, but otherwise she was short, pudgy, and her hair was always a mess. Now with the same pretty doll face she was slender, taller, pinker, and her hair was always tied back neatly. He wanted to think that she looked like a princess to him, but the only way that would be true is if she wed him, and that thought drove him up the wall. Him? Marry Lyon?

Freyjador could only answer his father with a blush. Ferid didn't like to push, but if his boy needed it then that was exactly what he would do.

"Hmm, son, I think you fancy Lyon," said Ferid, which got the prince's attention. He snapped his head up, mouth agape, eyes wide, and yet coherent words were not within his grasp. "It's OK, just admit it."

"Father, please lower your voice!" said Freyjador, worried about exactly how close to the door Lyon was standing. She took her duty seriously, and followed him absolutely everywhere, unless he asked to be alone. He rarely did, because he appreciated and enjoyed his dear friend and bodyguard's company, although he occasionally felt awkward around her. The last thing he needed was for her to learn of his feelings for her in such an indirect manner.

"My apologies. Well?" he said, in almost a whisper. As though it weren't painfully obvious at this point. Ferid was just teasing him now.

"I… think so," said the prince, suddenly feeling an iron weight on his chest lighten. For the first time that evening he could breathe again. "I am positive that I do, actually.

"Please don't tell anyone."

"You know the rule, Freyjador. What's said in this room stays in this room, hahaha," said Ferid, giving his boy a hearty pat on the shoulder. "Good for you, my son."

"Huh?" The prince was confused. After all, she wasn't of royalty. In fact, had Ferid not rescued her from the night all those years ago she wouldn't even be with them. With him. For better or for worse Lyon was practically part of the family, and Freyjador had always adored her; however, this adoration had gone to a whole new level, and where he would love nothing more than to reveal his affections to her, he feared he'd end up hurting her somehow. Somehow, he just didn't think this was a good idea. It simply wasn't meant to be.

"What is it, my boy. Why so melancholy?" said Ferid, thinking the kid would have been thrilled to get a load off, but it was quite the opposite now. Somehow he didn't think Lyon had rejected him, or that Lyon was seeing another. What monster was manifesting in that head of his?

"I couldn't possibly have her as my lover, could I, father? I'm a prince, and she's… " he paused, with no desire to place himself above Lyon in any way.

"I think you forget too quickly how your mother and I came to be. I didn't amount to much until I had won the Sacred Games, and now look where I am," said Ferid, wrapping an arm around his son. "I have the finest family in the queendom now, and all it took was hard work and good looks, ahahaha."

Freyjador couldn't help but laugh at that. His mother had once stated jokingly that she would have sent Ferid away if he weren't so dashing, though that wasn't quite like her to think that way. She just wanted everyone to get a fair shot, and Ferid had claimed victory fair and square. It was also clear that they loved each other so now, and the prince wasn't sure how that could work. You marry a complete stranger, and somehow fall in love? It worked for his parents, but he wasn't so sure it would work for Lym. He just had to thank his lucky stars that he wasn't the one born a woman.

"Lyon isn't like Godwin, who would merely cause trouble for the queendom. I'm sure your mother wouldn't disapprove."

"It isn't mother that I'm worried about," said Freyjador, and with that he said no more. He never wanted this subject to arise. He hoped sincerely that this phase would come to pass, and he and Lyon could have a relationship befitting of the prince and his bodyguard. She already made a point to address him as respectfully as possible in the public, and she took her job seriously almost to the point where wild beasts on the field never touched him. It was bad enough that Sialeeds started to call it babysitting. He wasn't so delicate that he needed to be babysat, but apparently delicate enough to need a body guard at all times.

Speaking of which, she was probably getting sleepy. He didn't want to keep her waiting.

"Father, I really must be going," said Freyjador with a yawn. After all, his birthday was tomorrow, and he'd have to greet every noble under the sun and then some. That took a lot out of a simple prince, so he'd have to be at his best in the morning.

"Sleep well, my boy," said Ferid, walking his son to the door. Before leaving, though, Ferid left his son with a few last minute thoughts. "It's all right, you know. It's all right to feel the way that you do."

"Goodnight," said the prince in return, determined not to discuss this any further. He would sleep with a clear mind and move on with his life, simply accepting things that were not meant to be, no matter how hurtful. Seeing Lyon awaiting him faithfully outside the door made things no easier. He could feel his face was flushed, and there she stood happily, none the wiser to the discussion that had just taken place. That way it would stay.

"I hope your discussion with Ferid went well, prince," said Lyon, walking him to his bedchamber with ease. Oh, if only she knew, and he would tell her if he could, but he simply couldn't. It just wasn't happening.

"It did. Thanks, Lyon."

And that was that.

TBC


	2. Reluctance

Now the prince of Falena was revered as a proper boy. He was well-mannered and well-behaved, he pulled his own weight, and he was friendly and fair to those he surrounded himself with. Like many boys who have passed their sixteenth birthday, though, the prince found himself hot and bothered by the presence of his closest female companion.

The façade he put on was quite simple. He was a kind prince, so he was kind to her. Well, it wasn't like he had to force himself to be kind at all. That was just silly. He was, however, careful not to choose words too flattering, and he did not compliment her often. It spoke well enough to her that, as long as he and his parents allowed her to be his body guard, she was doing a fine job of it. What he wouldn't give sometime to return her kind words, though. She was always free to praise him, though he wondered if it was he she was praising, or his title. Being a prince made that sort of thing unclear.

The prince thought of Lyon most often as he lay down to sleep. He often contemplated what the day would have been like had he allowed himself to compliment her form, praise her dutifulness, touch his fingers to her pretty smile, her rosy cheeks. Sometimes his mind would meander further into the impossible, and he would take those cheeks and those lips that he so adored into his own. He would make her feel warm and tender and loved as her presence made him feel.

Such thoughts comforted him, especially as times had become questionable, eerie even. The Godwin's heir Gizel had won Lymsleia's hand in marriage, which could sit no more right with the prince than indigestion. On the one hand he was not Euram Barows, which seemed to relieve Lym enough. Even so, Gizel had a dark feel to him that even his parents could not deny. As the prince lay in bed beside his sleeping sister, betrothed and confused and way too young for any of it, he couldn't help but wonder what storms to weather were ahead.

No matter what, though, he would always protect his sister. She meant everything to him, as did all of Falena.

It wasn't enough to protect, though. Something ought to have been said about all of this. The prince usually did not ask questions, choosing to trust in the wisdom and decisions of his parents. Usually their decisions were sound and just, which was why most of the Queendom was satisfied with their rule. That was, until his mother chose to bear the Sun Rune. Perhaps that rune was manipulating her more than she let on. Surely not, she was a strong woman. The prince believed in her.

He wanted to, anyway.

There weren't a whole lot of things in his world that made any sense anymore. If there was one thing that did make sense, though, it was Lyon.

He envied her in a way. As prince of a queendom, his role in Falena didn't amount to much. If nothing else he made a good diplomat. He had the charisma and the kindness to appeal to others, but otherwise he was background noise to do as he pleased. His purpose was more or less to be a good son, which wasn't unlike the destinies of young men in peasant families. Lyon, on the other hand, had a sworn duty. She was his sworn protector. She was hired to serve, fight, and even die for him if need be. Not that he would ever allow her to die of course. To him, that little blurb in her contract with Sol-Falena was hearsay. At least he could pretend it was.

Deciding sleep wasn't a probability at the moment, the prince carefully lifted himself out of bed so not to awaken Lym. She was much like Sialeeds and slept like a rock, and was also like Sialeeds in that she hated being roused from sleep unexpectedly. Plus, she seemed troubled. It was only fitting that she got a full night of rest after the events at Stormfist. If he had to guess, he'd guess that she hadn't slept well since.

He walked with air-light footsteps all the way to the door, and closed it behind him without making so much as a tap. On his way out he almost expected to see Lyon standing to his left, adorning a patient smile and upright posture. He could be gone for a few minutes, or hours, and either way she would be there to greet him just the same. This was a late hour, and even body guards needed their rest. It wasn't like the prince couldn't fight for himself. He sparred with Kyle well enough to take on any gladiator in the arena, save for maybe that freakish Childrich guy. If nothing else Lym didn't have to marry him, just the man he was representing.

When he was finally outside, the breeze nipped his warm cheeks like an insect. He hadn't realized, well, really neglected to realize how exciting it was to think of Lyon so late at night. It made him quite reluctant to allow Lym to sleep in his bed with him, but after all she had been through he couldn't say no. Her needs came before his, but since her needs were met and she had fallen fast asleep beside him, he would leave her be for now. He had to cool off.

It wasn't a very easy night to cool off, though. His father did them all a favor by refusing to let Kyle tag along, because that would have made everything worse. It was bad enough the prince was having impure thoughts, and that his aunt Sialeeds was even encouraging them. Sometimes she went way too far. Although he didn't think at all to peek on the girls in the bath, because that was just rude. Besides, with his luck he would get caught and his parents would have killed him. That didn't stop his mind from wandering to bad places, though. Several times that night he pictured what Lyon in the bath would have been like. They were like ghosts that floated through his mind like old walls, each arousing more excitement in him than the last. He had never felt more embarrassed, or awkward.

To be fair, Lyon would have had more fun with the other girls. She chose to tag along with him instead and explore Lunas at nighttime, though. Of course she used the body guard excuse, but he would have been just fine on his own. Lunas was a well-guarded holy land, after all. He wondered if she liked spending time with him, or if she was just sticking to her sworn duty. He hoped for their sake, mostly hers, that it was the latter. The more time they spent together, the more thoughts of her bombarded her. Her face was the last thing he saw, both literally and in his mind before going to bed. Likewise, she was the first thing he saw at sunrise. Was it even healthy to be so captivated by a girl? Especially one who was his sword and shield in combat?

Well, she was more. Farid saw her as more. It was difficult to ascertain how his mother felt about her. Arshtat was a fair and kind woman, thus treated all with that kindness when not provoked. That was much how the prince was as well, but even when provoked he wanted answers more than revenge. That was how his mother used to be actually.

That was why he was afraid. He was afraid of losing Lyon if his mother knew of his feelings. Surely it was unheard of that a member of royalty should fall in love with his bodyguard. Of course there was much about his family that was unheard of. Nobles usually wed the queen-to-be of Falena, and should a "barbarian" so much as make it to the semi-finals the nobles would see to it that they dropped out of the match. It was no great surprise, for example, that Belcoot had been cheated out of his victory. Still, it would have been nice for the second coming of his father to be the next Falenan king.

His mother lately didn't seem so open-minded to the unusual. As long as she worried him he would lock these forbidden feelings as far away into his heart as he could. In this world of cruelty and injustice, even something as pure as love was simply not meant to be.

So the prince walked until he stopped at the bank of the river, where he and Lyon had previously arrested the two silly gold dust thieves, Logg and Lun. Neither of them was particularly bright, or mean-spirited, so as far as the prince was concerned they could be let off with a warning. To tell the truth he was glad Lym was the one born princess. He hadn't the power, authority, or heart to be a leader of any sort. He was too forgiving, an idealist, and didn't desire tremendous power. He just wanted enough to prove useful to his people, and to protect them to the best of his ability.

Often he would refrain from looking at his reflection lately. If I wanted to see himself he could look down upon the polished floors of the castle. This time, though, his eyes were on his reflection in the lake. He didn't know when he had become so solemn. Aside from being lovesick, and peeved that his sister had to marry so young, he had everything he could possibly want. So he thought. He envied the carefree spirit of the commoners, the way they'd hold hands while strolling towns, and how they would speak so openly and freely about their love.

"Prince?" said Lyon, startling him from his myriad of thoughts. He thought she ought to be asleep at this hour, though somehow she had a sense for him. Or perhaps Lym woke up and asked Lyon to come find him. Whatever the case may be, he had been caught in the blatant act of pondering about her. It was a good thing she wasn't a mind-reader, but he hoped she couldn't hear his erratic heartbeat like he could.

"Oh, Lyon?" said the prince, once again putting on the innocent act. It was starting to feel stale, but the more stale it got, perhaps the more likely that these feelings he should not have would come to pass. That didn't feel very likely, but he could always dream.

"You could have woken me if you wanted some fresh air, prince."

"I'm fine," he said a little too quickly. Lyon was no expert at reading the thoughts and feelings of others, but she did a fairly good job of reading the prince. Well, for her anyway. Sometimes that worried him.

"Right, I won't pry," she said, her smile at best solemn, but she did her best to be supportive. She had a big heart, and he loved her for it. "I'll always be right by your side if you need me, for anything! You know that, don't you?"

"I know." He did know, which was all the more reason to shy away from her. Should she ever discover what he felt for her in his heart, there were several different scenarios his mind reeled in. Not a one of them ended well.

For this night, though, she took a seat beside him along the river bank, and they watched together as the gold dust sparkled in the light of the moon.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! You didn't think I had abandoned this lovely, have you? ;) NaNoWriMo & Holiday Season & Shiny New (and old) video games is a triple DAMN distraction combo OF DOOM AND MORE DOOM. In fact, I intend to make this longer than it was originally going to be because alkjdfajf. IDK. It would be hard to develop them the way I want to in five snippets, so I bumped it up to seven. Rejoice, or something.
> 
> If any of you are confused by the timeline, this is how the story is being written. Each chapter is a snippet of Freyjador and Lyon's progress in coming together. As you can see, the prince is not making much progress. Their relationship develops along the timeline of the game, and I'm going to write a chapter for each part of the game I think they grow together a little bit more. Part 1 is a before game snippet, so as you may imagine Part 7 will be an end/after game snippet. GOOD ending, mind you. That bad ending is the turd in the flower garden of bad endings in the Suikoden series, srsly (well, OK, Sui 1 & 2 are fuck off sad, too! And even Sui 4 if Lazlo grows on you. BUTBUT-those of you who beat the game KNOW, OK.)


	3. Remorse

Prince Freyjador's heart sunk like a stone when the light from the Sun Rune sunk and faded into the confines of the Sealed Room. It was over. Just like that. Between the masturbatory goggle of aristocrats, to the assassination of his parents, it was a wonder the Prince could stand to so much as breathe. It didn't help that Georg socked him unconscious, because Freyjador was beside himself with worry for his little sister. In fact, he still was. He didn't know if it was shock, or pride that stilled his tears. He could taste them in his throat like venom, but between Lyon's lamenting hiccups and the hardened sobs of Sialeeds, he found himself unable to spill his own grief just yet. Had he actually eaten more than two bites at the banquet he might have lost his supper to the Feitas, though. 

Every cell in his body was cold, and he found himself unable to look at anything, not that there was much to see but the stars in the sky and the sadness in everyone's face. Perhaps the only one in their entourage who wasn't overwhelmed at the moment was Zegai. He had his back turned to everyone, perhaps a method of offering as much privacy as he could, considering the circumstances, to everyone else's grieving. The Prince dared not look at Georg, who rowed with no help and said not a word since beacon faded. He had never seen the man so on edge. Something wasn't quite right, but the words for it were lost on Freyjador entirely. Perhaps it was for the better. He feared the dam would break if he so much as croaked one syllable, but he was the Prince and he had to be strong.

They wouldn't be arriving at the East Palace for another two hours, perhaps less at the rate Georg was rowing. Hopefully the cover of night was enough to protect them. After their run in with Dolph and Childrich Freyjador was certain that his blood was drained of fruitless battle. He could very possibly die were another unfortunate encounter to come much too soon. One of his ribs was cracked, and a cut on his jaw began to itch something awful. It was almost a relief to have his attention on that annoyance for a time.

Lyon chose a moment toward the later half of their naval get away to beckon the Prince. Her voice was flayed raw from grief, and he thought perhaps that he should hold her for a moment. When he moved to sit beside her she wrapped her hands around his forearm and managed to catch his gaze. The storm in her eyes may have startled him if his own emotions weren't frozen.  
"I promise to ensure your safety, Prince. No matter what. Even at the cost of my own life, I-" 

"Shh," said Freyjador, pressing his finger to her dry lips. He couldn't bear to hear of anymore lives that could be lost, to be reminded of the possibility of future tragedies. He had feared this day. He had tried to think of ways to prevent it, but had also considered the what ifs. What if the Sun Rune consumed and killed his mother? What if it consumed them all? What if the Godwins or the Barows took over? Was it so beyond his grasp to do anything? The Prince of the Queendom, as powerless as a court jester. The butt of mockery. The harbinger of laughs. Doomed to be the pampered shadow living off the potch of his royal title. 

He couldn't afford to have such thoughts, and if he did he generally let them pass like the wind. He wasn't simply shackled to a sex, or a bloodline. No, there was more to why he had to survive than that. Father and mother let him explore the country and its people for a reason. His title meant a lot to this country, but more so it was his mind, his compassion, and his endurance. If he could crawl through this haze tonight then Godwin be damned, and may The Sun have mercy on their souls, because he certainly wouldn't.

\---

They spent perhaps half a morning at the East Palace, all but Zegai failing to get a wink of sleep despite the insistence of the guard. Fortunately the Queen had enough insight to station only the most loyal of guards there, so they would get all of the intelligence and medical attention that they needed. The Prince's cracked rib was mended with aid from a rune keeper and their Water Rune. The Wind Rune that Sialeeds was fond of may have worked just as well, but she had exhausted her capacity to use it during their escape, and wouldn't recover it without sufficient rest. Lyon had uttered something about her foolish decision to hbear a Lightning Rune rather than a Water Rune, but it had still come in handy. She wasn't quite the mage that the Prince and Sialeeds were, but she had done well enough. 

They spent the rest of the day escaping farther into the country, north toward Lunas where Haswar was sure to house them, at least for the time being. The land was really quite beautiful in moments where time just seemed to stand still, and that was where the Prince was at the moment. If his thoughts weren't numb and the circumstances were significantly better he might have found the courage to compliment Lyon on her new outfit. She was really, very pretty, in any style of wear, though these days the Prince hardly ever saw her dressed as anything but a Queen's Knight apprentice. 

That thought passed through his mind like a pleasant buzz, though it gave him no happiness. In fact, he felt shame in the fact that he could even think such things at a time like this. But he felt disconnected, isolated even, because everyone was silent, the mood was melancholy, and the lush green that surrounded them ought to have been as gray as the atmosphere. Perhaps it was OK to distract himself with some silly, passing thoughts. Anything to keep himself sane. 

The trek to Lunas on foot took half a day, and the rest of the party tended to do all of the fighting. It wasn't that he couldn't give his tri-nunchaku a swing, it was just that everyone else got to the monsters first. If one got close to the Prince then Lyon made a point to take it out, and her speed was the greatest of anyone's. Her nature was generally protective, but this was almost annoying. Never mind how Georg seared though everything in the front of the entourage, and Zegai refused to be left out if fighting was involved. Sialeeds took it easy. She seemed a bit distracted anyway.  
Once forever had passed the mountainous trek of Lunas came into view, no longer obscured by the hazy summer air. The sun had fallen away from the zenith some time ago, indicating that this was just about dinner time, not that he had an appetite. The Prince still had nothing but those two bites of bread from twenty-four hours ago, and a canteen of water for the road. And he felt a piercing sting in his heart when it occurred to him. 

His parents were still alive the last time he ate. 

They were alive, but they weren't happy. Their very young daughter was officially betrothed to a viper. Their son was throwing a quiet fit, and they sent him away so that he might cool off. Sialeeds did most of the talking when they ran into various Godwins, and the Prince just listened. He mostly listened, never really said a word when he didn't have to. He wasn't a good liar, and not even his strict upbringing couldn't make him one, so when his mood was miserable he opted for silence. 

His silence had a lot to say, and he knew his conduct wasn't great. He couldn't pretend everything was all right when he knew something awful was coming. The entire family got together before the banquet to choke down some awful antidote per Lyon's suggestion, and mother had yet another one of her Sun Rune inspired episodes. Fortunately Miakis and Lym were out of earshot right when it happened. Who knows how much worse the night would have been for Lym if she had to see. 

Thoughts of Lym took a stab at his throat, and he found himself unable to breathe quietly now. They were halfway up the mountain trail that would take them to Lunas by then. It was more than he could bear. His eyes and his heart blazed with the need to release this maddening grief, but he was taught that tears were a strictly a private matter. So was Sialeeds undoubtedly, for her own cries were short lived and shut down the moment her composure was required. How did royalty not go mad from bottling up so much raw emotion? He thought back to his grandmother for a moment and scratched the thought. His family was actually quite prone to madness, come to think of it. 

Haswar could see it immediately upon their arrival, and she too was suppressing her own urges. If she had brought him into her arms he might have lost it right then and there. It would be too much like being held by his mother, and he never would be again. She knew that, and her own royal upbringing and wisdom showed at this moment. Perhaps she would have made a decent queen after all. There would have been no feud between the past queens. Mother and Sialeeds would not have been in line for the throne, and they could marry whoever. Freyjador and Lym could be brother and sister without all of the responsibility. Perhaps Gizel Godwin would have still been a good man, and all of this could have been avoided. 

The game of "What If" was as productive as making sense of the babbling of Salum Barows, or his idiot son Euram. Speaking of what if... 

No, he refused to let his mind wander down that road. The reality was awful enough. 

"Why don't you get some rest?" Haswar offered, and not for the first time. Georg, Sialeeds, and even Zegai had vacated the room only moments ago, and where the Prince had some sort of vague inclination to give in to the pull of sleep, he was falling victim to a plague of dark thoughts, and that insufferable sting choked him once more. He could say nothing, only nod and disappear through the quaint little conclave. 

"Thank you," said Lyon, bowing as she followed the Prince to his room. She of course was in a similar state of dismay, and where normally he relished her company like the warmth of the sun, he couldn't do anything about this lead weight in his chest if she was beside him. 

"I would like to be alone," he managed to say, tough it barely squeaked through the burn. He almost thought she couldn't hear him. 

"Oh, yes sir," she said, bowing to him and slipping the door shut. She wouldn't retreat to her own room and sleep. She was wired and paranoid, ever since the appearance of those blasted Nether Gate assassins. She would stand outside of his door fingering the hilt of her Nagamaki if so much as a mouse squeaked by, but this was the closest thing to isolation and privacy that he was going to get for a long time, and he had to let this grief out before it ate him alive. 

So he sat on the cold floor and let out his tears, his frustration. He wanted to pummel the floor and tear out his hair, though all he could manage were a flood of tears, another pesky wave of nausea that would amount to nothing, and a chain of sobs that wracked his body. It wasn't like it was easy to breathe before, so he would manage. Images of his family raced through his mind, and by then he had almost forgotten to consider Lyon an entity outside of his door. He couldn't permit her to see his tears for his own reasons, but she undoubtedly heard them, and cried some more of her own with him. He could feel it. 

He wondered if Lym was crying right now. If Miakis was with her then she more than likely wasn't. It would be all right. She was stronger than he, and she would move past this and put Gizel in his place on her own end. He still worried though, and it was only natural that a big brother should. He didn't want her getting married at all, let alone to scum. And that was when the sadness passed, and it turned into anger, and the anger morphed into resolve. He rubbed his face dry with his arm and stood, and he swore to The Sun that Godwin would fall, and Falena would belong to the royal family once more. The time for disgrace was over. 

\--- 

In less than five days time the Prince and the others, aside from Zegai who elected to stay out of Barows territory, made it to Rainwall. There was a collective sigh of relief from everyone involved, with the exception of Lyon. In the span of those five days she couldn't have slept more than two or three consecutive hours at a time, and once only because she had passed out in front of the Trade Shop in Haud. The Prince was so distracted by his own sadness that he hadn't noticed Lyon's poor physical state until her body shut down. They spent the night at the inn, per Boz Wilde's insistence, and he even covered the bill. The Prince insisted on being at Lyon's bedside, and he eventually fell asleep while he held her hand. He awoke with the sun tucked in that very bed with Lyon dozing at his bedside. He pleaded with her to get more rest, but she insisted that she was fine, and so they moved on. There was really no use arguing about it.

At last when they had reached Rainwall the Prince could breathe again. Lord Barows might have been an insufferable bag of hot air, but he hadn't openly waged war on the royal family as Godwin had, and currently Barows was the only force that stood a chance against the Godwins. This arrangement would simply have to do for now. 

Once Luserina Barows had everyone settled in, Lyon appeared as though she were about to burst. Sialeeds had accused her of being paranoid, and before the Prince could put in another word of comfort he was stopped dead in his tracks by an unsettling confession. 

"... I was once a member of Nether Gate too."

"What?" said the Prince. It was all he could manage. The cogs that processed information in his mind were overworked and smoking, and this revelation was something was not something that could be processed at this time. His tongue was paralyzed, but thankfully Sialeeds managed to step in and say everything he might have were his mind in better working order. 

A day couldn't go by without Lyon mentioning how grateful she was to Ferid, and Freyjador was also grateful. Not only did Ferid bring her into their home and raise her as their own, he saved her. She felt like she owed the world so much, and it was starting to come together. She felt guilty for the circumstances of her earliest upbringing. Ferid had told him and perhaps even Lym on a separate occasion to never ask Lyon about her past, because all it would do is cause her pain. The last thing the Prince wanted was for anyone to be in pain, so he happily complied. Instead he watched her grow from a safe distance. Her eyes used to be so cold, and it took her a long time to learn how to smile, so every chance he got he would show her with his own, and in due time she would follow his example, and this old pain healed over time.

"Do you think you can still trust me, even though you know about my past?" she said, looking him in the eye with such sadness. It was almost like she wanted him to say no, but that was impossible. Though his mind was a hodgepodge of knots, it didn't take much sense to deduce that her involvement with Nether Gate was not only not her fault, but she still harbored the weight of unnecessary guilt over it. Besides, this was Lyon. She swore her life to him on a daily basis, and she understood him perhaps better than anyone in this world could. He loved her dearly. 

He loved her. 

And he wouldn't turn her away. 

"Of course, Lyon," he said, and it came so naturally to him even now, to give her that special smile that he taught to her when they were children, and at once there were tears of relief rushing down her cheeks. If he were just a bit braver he would have kissed them all away and held her and never, ever let go. If he were braver still he may even shed his own tears with her. 

"My Sir Georg, is that your stomach growling?" said Sialeeds, heading to the door. "Where are your manners?" 

There was never a peep from Georg's gut actually, having consumed plenty of food back at Haud Inn before their departure, but he saw what she was getting at even before she nodded toward the Prince and Lyon. The way Freyjador smiled at her was like the bloom of cherry blossoms, pink and proud and ready to fly. He must have read that in a poem once, or perhaps heard it somewhere. Regardless it seemed to fit just right. 

"Hah, you got me," said Georg, taking the hint and following Sialeeds out of the room. Not even the promise of food could rouse Freyjador from the moment, so Georg slid the door shut behind them in peace. 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait. Don't ask why this took me five years to update, I just don't know. o.O; I've approached this chapter dozens of times, and always wound up blocked. I wound up deleting everything I had for this chapter and rewriting it because it was so bad, and I also revised the first two chapters to make them more presentable. So, err, if anyone's still reading this, thanks. Bear with me! Pretty damn sure the last four chappies won't take five years. I still know where I'm going with this.


	4. Resemblance

Ferid was the first and only person Freyjador had ever confided in regarding his feelings toward Lyon, and what he hoped was a carefully held secret had died with a wonderful man. He had occasionally thought of confiding in Georg, because that's who his father would turn to in times of need. After all, it was good to speak of things, any things, that were not related to the war from time to time. Unfortunately he didn't get to see much of Georg. The rumor that he had assassinated the Queen and Ferid still ran rampant. 

He didn't dare discuss this with Kyle. He had faith that his good friend wouldn't rat him out in blatant words, but that was the least of Freyjador's fears. The Prince didn't know what would be more horrifying, Kyle trying to set him up with Lyon, or Kyle trying to weasel her dress size out of him in every minute detail. Freyjador didn't have many close friends in this world, especially not now, so he thought it best not to wind up hating one of them. 

It was incredible just how quickly his heart had come to throb for her once more. One would think that he was far too distracted for love, and for the most part he was. He had fled his home to Rainwall, broke into Agate Prison to recruit the tactician Lucretia Merces, discovered where the Dawn Rune had wound up during his stay at Rainwall and left at once, arranged for Hatred Fortress to be destroyed so that Lordlake may once again have water, and in the midst of it all discovered what would become the Royal Falenan Army's new headquarters beneath Ceras Lake.

One night when twilight nestled beneath the horizon and the gold started to fade from Ceras Lake, Freyjador chanced upon Lyon seated upon the outside ledge of the castle's third floor. When she turned and smiled at him it was like she filled him with every ounce of heat he had lost through his every ordeal. Why, to him she had warmth and beauty that would make The Sun blush, but he just couldn't tell her. He felt he had to tell someone, though. Someone trustworthy as his father, but with different words to offer. Words that would tell him he was a fool and should banish the thought, and perhaps how to banish the thought. After all, a prince did not simply gallivant with his own bodyguard. 

"It's all right, you know. It's all right to feel the way that you do."

But then again, he held anything his father had to say in high regard. Maybe it would have been all right if all were well. If Godwin had been revealed for the rat that he was, Gizel's engagement to Lym were called off, and those crooks were exiled, or thrown into the Feitas. Then at least the Prince would have his palace and his family, and they would have the upper hand against the greedy nobles. Such a life was but a fantasy now, and it did him no good to dwell on what if. 

He couldn't help but notice one thing, though. Lyon was popular around the castle among the men, and that also stirred feelings in him. Sick ones. If he hadn't desperately needed allies he might have been more tempted to clobber Wilhelm for talking to Lyon so disrespectfully. His eyes examined her body like a slab of meat, and this was not uncommon. The Prince himself was used to scrutiny of all kinds. Any royal who stepped into the outside would be, as well as their company. There were plenty of men who preferred to check out the Prince's body guard, though. She was very vocal and shot every advance made toward her down, but surely not every man would be blatant, or filthy about it. Those would be the bigger threats, because Lyon might actually give them the time of day if she met the right one. He wouldn't tell her no, of course, but in his heart he would. 

\---

Ranro Mountain was a nightmare of dust and dry air rivaled only by Lordlake before she was given back her water, and everyone was in a bad mood when they had to climb it. Sialeeds was the only one in a good mood on the way back down. The ones called Faylon and Faylen took the lead with Dinn and shielded their leader Roy from oncoming monsters, and they were rampant. Freyjador would be blind by the time he reached the bottom, and he cursed himself over and over again for forgetting to purchase an Escape Scroll in Sable. He remembered eye drops, though. Plenty of eye drops to go around, and creeper beads. Why the hell did he have so many creeper beads? 

Much to his amazement, Roy insisted that he could fight just fine, despite being thoroughly thrashed by the Prince earlier. Roy was listing further and further back from his companions, and would turn toward Lyon every so often just to tell her things such as "Relax, sweet heart. Let me handle the big baddies." She rightfully told him that he was talking nonsense, and should be the one to relax considering how battered he was. Freyjador still swelled with pride when he thought of Lyon telling Dinn that he would be fine in his fight, because she acknowledged his strength. She even took pride in it. Perhaps he could have gone easier on the guy, but Roy just pushed and pushed and would not relent. 

Freyjador's mood hadn't been sour on the way down, but for the fact that these horrid mountains were infested with grotesque creatures that flapped debris into his eyes. He would never neglect to purchase an Escape Scroll or twenty again. He was thirsty, tired, had gritty sand between his toes, but all things considered, he was fine, and he would not complain. 

That, however, would not last. 

"Roy, look out!" Lyon belted all of a sudden, sprinting from the Prince's side at once. Faylon and Faylen had just enough time to turn around before their faces and Dinn's disappeared behind a landslide. Rockadillo, pesky vermin they were, had jabbed a crack in the mountain causing many rocks and boulders to crumble upon their path. Roy was right in the path of those rocks, and would have been crushed had Lyon not pulled him away at the last minute. The move was so swift, but clumsy, and she lost her footing and dragged Roy down with her. He laid on top of her before the mess that now divided their party. Sialeeds, who took up the rear with the Prince and them, decided to examine the landslide and the well-being of the others while the Prince ran up to Roy and Lyon. 

"Are you two all right?" said the Prince, catching up to them. Roy pushed himself up, one hand on either side of Lyon's shoulders, and he was staring down into her eyes with a look of pure wonder. Despite the clouds of dust the pink in his cheeks didn't escape Freyjador for a moment, though that should have been the least of his worries, so that split second of weariness passed. Freyjador shook his head and knelt down beside Lyon carefully. "You're not injured, are you? Did you hit your head?" 

"I'm all right, Prince. Just a bit... winded." She appeared to be looking toward Roy, who hadn't moved an inch. Freyjador's insides knotted once more. Their new little bandit friend had begun to try his patience again, and hers, it would seem. "Do you mind, Roy?" 

"Umm. Thanks for saving me, sweetie. You're pretty... hard core." 

"You're welcome, but please. You're... " 

"Let me help you, Roy," said Freyjador with haste, standing and extending his hand toward the bandit. What he really wanted to do was yank the boy off of her, but he had an image to uphold, and it really wasn't in him to be hostile when the situation didn't call for it. And it wouldn't call for it unless Roy refused to get up, of course.

Roy was no fool. He accepted the Prince's hand with a few grumbles and that was the end of that. It was bizarre. Roy saw the Prince as something of a rival, that much was for certain. And they had more than just a face in common, it would seem. Their hearts throbbed in unison to a certain Queen's Knight apprentice. It would be something else entirely to compete with a boy whose job was to emulate him, although it technically wasn't a competition. In times like these the Prince really had to let these feelings go, because they would do him no good. 

\--- 

Loathe as he was to admit it, Roy didn't hate living at the Prince's castle so much. He was given a nice room to share with Faylon and Faylen, and they were beside themselves with joy over it. It was better than the room they shared at that Roolball, or whatever his name was, guy's house. And nothing beat free food, he had to admit. As far as digs go, he could do a whole lot worse. 

What he hated was all the time he spent in the castle on standby, while the Prince and Lyon were off on missions, and errands, and stuff. She was out of the castle a whole lot, that Lyon. Roy couldn't really put his thumb on it, but he really, really wanted her to be his girl. She sure had this... thing about the Prince, and Roy was intrigued by the prospect of stealing her attention from him. That wasn't all, though. He could tell that she wasn't quite like the others. There was some rough, rough patches in her life. Perhaps she understood him a little better than he would ever admit, and it kind of made him feel like he had an instant connection with her. He wanted to unravel her story, and unravel her from the Prince while he was at it. 

But he sure as heck wasn't gonna do it if she was never in the castle. Heck, even when she was in the castle she followed him around like a lost puppy. Were royal body guards really supposed to be that persistent? It seemed weird, because with a dynamic like that, how did either of them get any privacy? Exactly what was going on between them? The deeper it ran, the funnier it would be to break. Funnier than when he spit in the Prince's eye during their duel. He might have lost, but he got his point across if nothing else. Roy didn't like the Prince. 

But he did like Lyon, so he would have to tolerate the Prince to get to her. Darn. 

He knew that if he waited on the first floor where all the shops were that the Prince would turn up eventually. What he didn't expect was to walk by a mirror and have three bodies pop in right in front of him out of nowhere. Roy jumped backward and readied his weapon at once, until he realized who the people were. Well speak of the devil...

"Thank you for all of your hard work today, Viki. Your service is invaluable to us," said the Prince, bowing his head toward that 'Viki' lady. 

"Oh, you don't have to thank me at all! I hardly did anything. I'm just glad we're all in one piece." 

"Thanks to you the Prince was able to make a quick fortune in the Haud Village. I wonder why they pay so much for gold and wine," said Lyon, and she pulled out her sword and examined it. "It'll help our cause greatly, that's for sure. I don't know about you, Prince, but I'm long due for an upgrade." 

"That certainly won't be a problem. With this much potch I reckon I can afford an upgrade for just about everybody in the castle." 

"Hey yo, mirror lady," said Roy, drawing the conversation to a complete halt. The Prince and Lyon snapped their heads toward the bandit, but Viki flinched and took a step backward. "What the hell? How come you can make this guy appear out of nowhere?" 

"Roy, don't speak to Viki with such disrespect," said Lyon, stepping out in front of the trio. She was so quick to jump down his throat, and Roy was already sick of it. 

"Fine. Please, O'Master Viki, I beg of you to impart your boundless wisdom on the subject of teleporting and such. There, happy?"

Lyon did something no one had ever seen her do, not even the Prince himself. She pursed her lips and smacked her forehead. It was so bizarre to see someone known for her patience and compassion to express blatant exasperation, and though he should have supported her the Prince placed his hand over his mouth, squeezed his eyes shut, and did a poor job of repressing the urge to chuckle. 

"Don't laugh, Prince," Lyon uttered, and that just made him laugh a little more, and the more his mirth grew the more frustrated Roy had become. 

"Umm, yes... well," said Viki, and Roy spared her a glance for just a moment. Her face was like a tomato, and she seemed to have forgotten how to breathe properly. What was the matter with these stupid people? All he did was ask a question. 

"OK, forget it. Let me cut to the chase. Prince, I'm bored and sick of being on standby. Isn't it about time you called upon a real warrior, big shot?" said Roy, sizing up the regal reign of terror that would undoubtedly make his life miserable for years and months to come. The Prince was no longer laughing. He was rather stunned to silence like Viki was, only rather than forgetting how to breathe he scratched the back of his head and turned away for a moment. 

"The Prince will call upon you when he needs you," said Lyon, a tone so curt it left little room for argument. This time Roy wouldn't just trod off in a huff, though. He may have hated to be around this lousy excuse of a prince, but he wasn't going to get close to Lyon otherwise, so he had to deal with it. 

"Now Lyon, there's no need to be short." 

"But Prince-" 

"Besides, I think I know the perfect errand we can run with Roy. Hehe... hehehe." 

"Really?" said Roy, though the Prince looked far too amused for Roy's liking. 

"I'd like to head for the outskirts of Doraat today, Viki. Are you up to it?" 

"Yes!" Her stomach growled as soon as she said that, and for the second time the Prince had a chuckle. "Err, umm, first... i-if it wouldn't be too much trouble, I... "

"Please, have a bite to eat, and take your time. Have a nap if you'd like. It'll take a couple of hours to prepare." 

"Thank you. I really have ta-a... " 

"Oh no... " said Lyon. 

"Run!" said the Prince, and he and Lyon grabbed each of Roy's wrists and despite the bandit's struggles and protests they ran off before Viki could sneeze an entire open sack of wheat flour onto their heads. 

And that wasn't even the worst of it. Roy would learn the hard way just what errands with the Prince of Falena might entail. 

\--- 

"Cursed mediocrities! Commonalties! Clodpates! If not for you uncultured dimwits I would have all of my DoReMi elves at my disposal, and I wouldn't HAVE to traverse these wretched fields of ghastly creatures... "

"Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah," Kyle uttered to himself, tapping his fingers to his thumb up and down to simulate the endless string of words. Roy snorted. For a friend of the Prince, Roy could honestly say that he kind of, sort of didn't quite dislike Kyle, at least not at the moment. They were a party of six: Prince, Lyon, Kyle, Roy, that Viki, and single-handedly the most horribly annoying person Roy thought he would ever meet, a stuck up, portly oaf named Cornelio. Now, Cornelio was in a whole other realm of awful if he could openly mock the Prince and Roy only found himself bored of it in under two minutes. The sound of that man's voice was so grating! Roy was half tempted to dress up like the Prince one of these days and challenge all of his current DoReMi elves to a fight at some point just to get back at both of them, but then he would probably be dragged along to do this again, and it just wasn't worth it. 

"Where were YOU, mediocrity, when that ducking fowl from earlier scuffed my shoe? Do you think a DoReMi elf with any sense would bring itself before I of scuffed footwear? Of course not! You haven't even the class or sense of a furball!" 

"Yo," Roy whispered to Kyle. "Why isn't sweetie over there tearing that bozo up for talking down to his royal highness and all?"

"You really think a guy like that would listen?" Kyle sighed and shook his head. "There are some people in this world you just don't want to encourage. The Prince has a knack for attracting... eccentric people. Not that I'm complaining, because a lot of them are ladies, and fine-looking ones at that." 

"No kidding," Roy grumbled.

"What was that?" 

"Nothing. Forget it!"

"All right, then." 

Roy thought he might go about sulking some more, but the string of grating words came to a sudden halt and was replaced by a yelp. When Roy looked up he saw Cornelio's fat bottom hanging out of the mouth of a Giant Creeper that thrashed him about. He heard the man still shouting from within that bulbous orifice, and if Roy had it his way he would turn tail and go home. He could talk the damn thing to death and then live in fields of stupid DoReMi elves for all anyone cared. 

Of course, the one person on this Earth who could possibly care called upon the power of his Rage Rune, and a wall of fire shot across the base of the creature. Damn Prince and his damn goodie-two shoes ways. Fortunately for Cornelio, and not necessarily for anyone else, creepers did not have teeth, or else he would have been bitten in two. Instead the nasty thing spat the man back out, and he skid along the ground collecting dirt and grass which stuck to his creeper slime, and Roy let out a chuckle. 

"You think this is funny, mediocrity?!" Cornelio bellowed while flailing his limbs all over. 

"Umm, guys, we've kinda got a problem on our hands," said Kyle, sword at ready as the beast before them hissed with rage. It smelled of swamp and dead leaves, and at once Roy brought out his own weapon and assumed his stance. It bent its awful head down toward the Prince, whose incantation of another fire spell was going just too slowly. He hadn't time enough to break his concentration and move, so Lyon stepped in front of him and was sucked up instead. 

"Oh, hell no!" said Roy, twirling about the tip of his newly enhanced Dawn Numbchaku as he made a dash toward the beast. He beat at that stupid thing like a mad man, demanding it release Lyon at once. Beside him the Prince would partake in a mirror image of the beating that he dealt, and it was eerie how in sync their movements were. All anyone else could do was stand there and watch until the two of them hopped back. The blasted thing would be hurting quite a bit from it. Once it spit Lyon out Roy would run with everything he had and be the first to catch her. It would be perfect.

Or it would have been, had a certain sneeze from a certain Viki not winked him off the ground in an instant and popped him fifteen feet above the creeper. Falling on top of it was the crushing blow that would knock it out, and Lyon shot out of its body like a cannon ball. Though his fall was broken by this horrible mutant plant from hell, every bit of Roy's body ached, and he could see stars and hear whistles. Maybe he was bleeding. Who cares? 

"Are you all right, Prince?" 

Painful though it was, Roy jerked out of the pathetic heap he was in, and glared out from behind the fallen creeper. Though his vision was a swirling mess, and his stomach was doing much the same, he could make out two figures that distinctly resembled Lyon's and the Prince's, pressed together in an almost happily fallen heap. So he had the same plan as Roy, did he? Why that stupid- 

"Ahhh, my spell went all wrong. I'm so sorry," said Viki, who approached Roy on tow with Kyle. 

"Geez, I'm surprised you can move," said Kyle, and his hand glowed blue. The water in the air collected around Roy's battered body and eased pain's foul grip on it, at least enough for his vision to stop wobbling and his stomach to stop whining. He was fairly certain that he hadn't broken anything, but he would certainly have to see a doctor later about a possible concussion. 

"Shaddap," said Roy. He tried standing too soon, but his knees buckled under him. 

"Roy, just give me a minute and hold still. You're all beaten up." 

"Oh Roy!" said the sweetest voice in all of Falena. Finally. She might have been covered in disgusting creeper slime, but that didn't matter a damn bit. He supposed if he couldn't claim the part of the hero at this given moment thanks to a certain, stupid prince, he could always play the part of the battered victim. "Are you OK? What happened?"

"Ugh, ehy swee-ugh!" Roy hoisted himself up once more, in less pain than he was the first time, but his face fell onto Lyon's shoulder anyway. He bet she would have smelled really good before the creeper got to her, but that was OK. 

"Really Roy?" said Kyle in a flat tone, who knew damn well what he was doing and the extent of Roy's wounds, which weren't actually that great despite the possible concussion. Still, the guy didn't have to just up and blow his cover like that. Never mind not hating him, then. Roy very much hated them all with every fiber of his being, except Lyon obviously. 

"Roy." He could feel her wonderful, if slimy, body tense beneath his cheek, and knew that she was either about to get furious, or the Prince was going to step in where he wasn't wanted. Well, it was nice while it lasted. 

"Hmm. Roy's injuries seem quite severe. Someone had better carry him back to the castle then, right, Kyle?" said the Prince, and Roy could only imagine the look on his face, because his cover would be more obviously blown if he had moved. 

"Ahhhh. You may have a point there, Prince. But I'm not really into carrying guys around myself, though." 

"No matter, for I intended to do it myself anyway," said the Prince, and before his fingers could come anywhere near Roy he sprang to his feet. 

"Yo, don't even think about it, guy," said Roy, and he cursed as his knees began to shake. 

"Are you sure?" said the Prince, and it was hard to tell if he was being sincere, or a condescending brat. After all, when it came to Lyon he did make a point to get in the way, that damn prince. That stupid, damn prince. Lyon sputtered a bit, caught between confusion, concern, and probably even anger, though whatever she had to say was cut off by a boisterous cough from their left. 

"AHEM! I would like to announce that while you bumbling mediocrities flocked about this dreck I went about procuring a most vital member of our entourage. You can thank me later, not that uncultured mediocrities such as yourselves grasp the importance of this situation." 

It was indeed as he said. On his heels a new DoReMi elf brought up the rear, and Roy had never been more grateful of something in all of his life. 

"Great! Let's leave," he said, and his knees chose that moment to give way once more. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. 

"Good idea," said the Prince, and rather than offer a hand to help Roy to his feet he scooped the bandit into his arms like a baby, figuring it'd be the easiest way to carry him. Or humiliate him. Same difference. 

"Hey, come on. No way! Put me down, man. Don't do this in front of-" 

"Man, oh man," said Kyle, shaking his head. "I don't know about you, Lyon, but I've had enough of this sausage fest." 

"I couldn't agree more, Kyle. Err, the Prince excluded, of course." 

Right. The Prince, even though he was the one making the scene. Oh well. Roy was too tired to care. The damage was done. The sooner they got home, the sooner this was over. This was the last time he would ever volunteer to go on errands for the Prince again. 

"Is everyone ready?" said Viki, and with that they were all back at the castle safe and sound, though little did Roy know that this would be the last time he could accompany Lyon on errands with the Prince. Had he known he may not have stayed holed up in his room on days where no major battles took place. One thing was for sure. He was seriously gonna clobber that stupid prince if it was the last thing he ever did. 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teehee, finally the Roy chapter. I love him more every time I play the game. Sorry if I've skipped anything you might have wanted me to include, but I'm really just trying to focus on vital turning points and obstacles this pairing faces throughout the game. I tried to do a bit with Luserina for some of you, but it was just too out of place within the context for me, so I'll be taking what I wrote of that and putting it into a separate fanfic. However, I've always planned on having a Roy chapter. I don't think it turned out to be anything I might have imagined five years ago, but I guess it's all right. Maybe I pick on him too much, but I do it out of love. He's just such a fun character, and he brings a very... unique dimension to Prince/Lyon. There will be more of him.


End file.
